


Mount Everest

by sternenrotz



Category: The Horrors (Band)
Genre: Alcohol, Gen, Infidelity, M/M, Mountaineering, Past Drug Addiction, Screenplay/Script Format, metaphors about mountaineering anyway
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-10
Updated: 2015-07-10
Packaged: 2018-04-08 15:28:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,595
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4310523
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sternenrotz/pseuds/sternenrotz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>"If you want to know so badly. I guess to me you’re like Mount Everest."</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mount Everest

**Author's Note:**

> forced to write a script in class, decided to write Horrors fanfiction with the names swapped. spent ages wrangling with myself on where to post this.
> 
> set loosely in the same verse as this fic ([x](http://archiveofourown.org/works/970486)) but can be read as a standalone.

Night, outside in the streets of Islington, London.

RHYS and JOE are standing at a table outside a recently-closed pub. They’re both in their mid-to-late 30s, dressed like aging Shoreditch hipsters. It begins to rain and JOE fumbles with opening his umbrella.

RHYS

What now?

JOE manoeuvres the umbrella above his head while RHYS pulls up the hood of his jacket.

RHYS (CONT’D)

What’re you going to do now?

JOE

Iunno. You know Heather’s going to be fuming when I show up at two in the morning again.

RHYS

(laughs, low and brief) You tell her where you’re off to, at least?

JOE

‘f course I didn’t tell her.

JOE fumbles with his umbrella some more, toying the handle of it.

JOE (CONT’D)

She was off to some (slurring, slightly) some concert, don’t remember the band. Big interview to conduct before so I never bothered with telling her ‘cause she just seemed so busy. So I just called the babysitter and left her a note, I’m out drinking with the lads.

RHYS

‘cause that doesn’t make it seem like you’re having an affair at all. (laughs)

JOE

Maybe ‘cause I’m not having one. (laughs) Just some drinks out with an old friend, is all.

RHYS snorts out a laugh.

RHYS

I mean, you could always kip at mine again tonight. Wife’s not home, so.

JOE

I’m not. Not gonna kip at yours, ‘specially if Sharon’s not there. (derisively) I’ve just told you I’m not having a bloody affair.

RHYS

You’re acting like I’m some sort of sex predator. (laughs again)

JOE laughs along, short and hollow.

RHYS (CONT’D)

Just saying if you don’t want to deal with your wife tonight you can come along with me. Sleep on my couch, you know, have some wine. Play some records.

JOE

(cutting him off just slightly) Please.

RHYS

(slightly quieter) Sharon's not gonna be back until Sunday morning either way.

JOE

Please. You remember what happened the last time I kipped on your couch.

RHYS

'f course I remember that.

RHYS pauses to pull out his cigarettes and light one up for himself.

RHYS (CONT'D)

Fag?

JOE

Cheers, I'm good.

JOE pulls a packet of nicotine gum and pops one into his mouth.

JOE (CONT’D)

Trying to quit again.

RHYS

Sorry.

JOE

It’s okay. (beat) You know the last time you let me kip at yours we ended up having sex.

RHYS

So we did. You don’t need to tell me that like I forgot.

JOE

Well, I wasn’t finished. (talking down at the table) We had sex in the bed you share with your wife, in your house, after we spent the evening talking about the families we started.

JOE raises his head to look at RHYS, who avoids his gaze.

JOE (CONT’D)

Do you not feel guilty about any of that?

RHYS

We can always get a hotel room if it bothers you that much.

JOE

You know exactly that’s not what I meant.

RHYS

Well, I don’t know what you did mean by that. (slightly bitter) You’ll have to tell me that yourself.

JOE

I mean that you made me cheat on my wife. You cheated on your own wife and now all you care about is when we’ll get to do it again, it seems like. Do you really not feel guilty about that?

RHYS

I don’t see why I should. (beat) I’ve a question.

JOE

Go ahead.

RHYS

What is this to you? What am I to you?

JOE

What is it to _you_?

JOE glances over at RHYS again, but once again, RHYS does not look back.

JOE (CONT’D)

I thought it’d be a bloody nice opportunity to reconnect with an old friend.

RHYS

A friend.

JOE

‘cause that’s what we were. At some point. We were friends and next thing we were shagging, and that worked until it didn’t, did it. So of course I thought maybe we’d be able to return to just that. But I guess I was wrong.

RHYS lets out a quiet, yet scornful breath.

RHYS

You really do love your wife.

JOE

Of course I love her. I’m happy with her and I thought we could just be friends now but you obviously didn’t change.

RHYS turns to look at JOE, as if to say something, but decides against it. Beat.

JOE (CONT’D)

Why’d you and Sharon get married?

RHYS

Honest? We got married because she was pregnant.

JOE

You didn't. I know you didn't, it's not the sixties anymore. (quickly glances over at RHYS' paisley shirt) Despite your wishful thinking.

RHYS

I resent that.

JOE

My point is, no one does that anymore. Marry a girl you've known for all of three months just 'cause you've knocked her up. Especially not if you're both adults and abortion's an option, and especially not if you're a poofter.

RHYS laughs, short and snorting and still containing an amount of scorn.

JOE (CONT'D)

Why'd you really marry her?

RHYS

Married her 'cause of you, I guess. 'cause I couldn't get enough of what your face looked like the first time we went to a club and you saw me leave with a woman on my arm.

JOE

So you actually never loved her.

RHYS laughs, a dry, sickly laugh.

RHYS

I don’t feel much of anything for her. You’ve said it yourself. I’m gay.

JOE

And you’re a sociopath.

RHYS

Well, you’re a twat. (beat) I do love my daughter, though. I’m not _completely_ heartless.

JOE

Completely.

They both laugh, dry and hollow.

JOE (CONT’D)

If you want to know so badly. I guess to me you’re like Mount Everest.

RHYS

What d’you mean by that?

JOE

What I mean is, Mount Everest is a death trap. (beat) Mount Everest actively tries to kill everyone who goes to climb it.

RHYS

So what you’re saying is you’re calling me a murderer.

JOE

I’m not calling you a murderer.

Beat. RHYS grinds his cigarette butt out on the tabletop.

JOE (CONT'D)

I've been dead, you know.

RHYS

You mean-

JOE cuts him off.

JOE

For about seven minutes, yeah.

RHYS turns his head to make eye contact with JOE.

RHYS

You're not. You're not talking about-

JOE cuts him off once again.

JOE

That night, yeah. New Year's. That time.

RHYS

With the crack.

JOE

The crack.

RHYS

(interrupting him) Crack, crack.

JOE

And whatever else you gave me that night, yeah.

JOE exhales a shaky breath and spits his nicotine gum into the ashtray.

JOE (CONT'D)

You know what, I've changed my mind. Give me a fag.

RHYS passes his cigarettes over and JOE lights one up.

JOE (CONT'D)

My heart went out just before the ambulance got to the A&E, is what the doctor told me later. Six minutes and forty-three seconds, then they got me back.

JOE exhales. He's got trouble talking.

JOE (CONT'D)

I passed out on that sofa where you left me. I threw up on my sister's top and she had to call 999 and tell them I've probably overdosed on some unknown substance. And then I woke up ages later to my parents crying on the side of my bed. They'd had to pump my stomach just to be sure. Hooked me up to an IV and all that.

JOE exhales another long breath. He's on the verge of choking up.

JOE (CONT'D)

I'd never seen my dad cry until that night. I made him cry over his half-dead junkie son and that's the last thing I'd ever wanted him to see, me like that.

RHYS

And now you're blaming me for it.

Beat. RHYS lights himself another cigarette.

RHYS (CONT'D)

Of course you blame me for everything, as if you weren't the one who cheated first. As if I didn't only ever sleep with Sharon to get back at you and spent a whole seven years in an empty marriage just 'cause I wanted you to know what it feels like when I saw you with birds hanging off your neck.

RHYS snorts derisively and turns to spit onto the pavement.

RHYS (CONT'D)

You can't act like you're the victim here and I'm the deranged fucking killer mountain in your life.

JOE

Yeah, maybe that's your own jealousy issues you should work through.

Beat.

JOE (CONT'D)

(slightly raising his voice, ) And I don't see how me cheating first when everything was already on its way to shit is comparable to you letting me die of an overdose.

RHYS

Are you still mad at me for that?

JOE laughs, a fake, hateful laugh.

JOE

You're not seriously asking that, are you? (laughs some more) You can't. You can't walk it off when you've got a cocktail of crack and various strange pills in your system and you're on the verge of passing out. And you especially can't just sit me down and ask me if I'm feeling better now and then leave me alone if I, delirious half-conscious junkie me, if I say yes, just 'cause you didn't want to call a bloody ambulance. (raising his voice again) You just can't fucking do that.

RHYS

(quietly) Okay.

JOE

(mocking, but at regular volume) Okay?

RHYS steps away from the table to stand in front of JOE and grabs him by his sleeve.

RHYS

(more quietly) Hit me.

JOE

I'm not going to hit you.

RHYS

I mean it. I'll let you. I’m not gonna fight back.

JOE

I don’t want to bloody hit you.

RHYS

(loudly, grabbing for JOE’s arm and wrenching it up towards his face) Yeah, you bloody well do.

JOE shakes him off.

JOE

(quietly, snapping) I don’t. I bloody well _don’t_. You really think it’s going to solve anything if I hit you? Like that’s some sort of punishment now? (beat) I just want you to know that I think you’re an awful person. And I meant what I said about you earlier.

RHYS

About me being a sociopath?

JOE

I meant what I said about you being like Mount Everest. But that too.

Beat.

RHYS

I just want you to know that I’m not a sociopath. Like I said. I really do love my daughter. And I guess I used to love you, too. You know. Back then.

JOE

So you just have no concept of responsibility and common sense, then. That’s good to know.

RHYS throws JOE a short, scornful look. JOE doesn’t look back. Beat.

RHYS

Tell me about Mount Everest.

JOE

Mount Everest.

RHYS

You can’t compare me to your death mountain without telling me what you actually mean. (throws another short glance towards JOE) Thought even you weren’t that thick.

JOE

(slowly) You know the truly messed up thing about Mount Everest is how it's become a cheap commodity.

RHYS stubs his cigarette out. He throws JOE another glance, as if to say something, but decides against it.

JOE (CONT’D)

I. (stumbling over his words again) I read a book about it. They didn't even summit it until sixty something years ago. And now if you've got the money you can drop forty thousand quid on a trip to Nepal if you want to, so you can pay a sherpa a starving wage and say you've climbed the tallest mountain on earth. You pay forty thousand quid so you can get frostbite and have your life expectancy drastically cut.

JOE looks over at RHYS, who returns his gaze, emotionless.

JOE (CONT'D)

I'm not talking about, like, a month or two knocked off your total. Or like how every time you smoke a cigarette you lose eleven minutes, or however they put it.

RHYS

(mockingly) Cocaine addiction takes thirty-four years off your life expectancy on average, Joseph Spurgeon states in blog post. As read on NME.com.

JOE

Cunt. I mean, once you go past twenty-six thousand something feet, you've literally got three days to climb the summit and come back down before the mountain kills you off. You're so far up at this point that you have to wrap up your whole body or you'll get frostbite and sunburnt, and you can forget going all the way up there if it's windy. The breeze knocks you down and off the mountain, and you're dead.

RHYS

Yeah. I still don't see how that's all related to me, though. (beat) Don’t see why anyone would willingly want to climb Everest if it’s such a fucking death mountain, either.

JOE

I’ve actually no idea why anyone’s climbing Mount Everest. But it’s also gotten to the point where I’m not sure why I ever got with you, so.

RHYS

Ever. You mean about three weeks ago?

JOE

(deadpan) Piss off.

RHYS

I’m just saying that it’s happened. Considering you love your wife so very much and you’re comparing me to Mount Killdeath Frostbite and yet you still willingly had sex with me in my house.

JOE

Doesn’t mean I don’t regret it.

Beat. JOE looks down at what’s left of the cigarette in his hand and stubs it out in the ashtray.

JOE (CONT’D)

 

It’s cold.

RHYS

D’you want my jacket?

JOE

What?

RHYS starts to take his jacket off.

JOE (CONT’D)

No. No, no, no. I don’t want your bloody jacket.

RHYS

Come on. (holds the jacket out towards JOE)

JOE hesitates, but takes the jacket and drapes it over his shoulders, not actually putting it on.

JOE

Cheers.

RHYS

Not a problem.

JOE

Yeah.

Beat. JOE pulls the jacket tighter around himself.

JOE (CONT’D)

I’m assuming it’s to do with saying you did. The spiritual enlightenment that comes with saying you’ve climbed the tallest mountain on earth.

RHYS throws a glance over at JOE, who looks back just in time for their eyes to meet.

JOE (CONT’D)

As if half the guys who shagged you didn’t do it just to brag about it. So they can say they’ve got connections and so you’ll keep supplying them with coke until one night they pass out and die and some years down the road they’re entering rehab, but at least they got there by bumming their way into the scene, I guess.

JOE snorts derisively and extends his hand towards RHYS without turning his head.

JOE (CONT’D)

Give me another fag.

RHYS slips the box into his hand.

RHYS

You’re low as fuck, mate.

JOE lights himself a second cigarette.

JOE

You’re the one who fed kids hard drugs without taking responsibility for it, so. D’you really think anyone who’s climbing Mount Everest isn’t going to be in some similarly disastrous junkie condition by the time they get close to the summit? By the time you’re at base camp getting ready to actually climb the summit you’re already on your way out. Low oxygen levels, so you can barely eat or sleep or think and your body’s straining to pass out but you’re pushing against it ‘cause you’ve got another ten thousand something feet you want to climb, so when you’re up there you’re literally trying to see how far you can go without dying.

RHYS

And people still do it.

JOE

Yeah, well, we’ve both spent several years doing crack.

RHYS

Like that’s much more dangerous than dragging yourself up a suicide mountain. But maybe that starts sounding like a good idea when you’re coked up.

JOE laughs, dry and hollow.

JOE

You know I’ve actually heard people get so fucking delirious when they’re past the death zone that one guy threw himself off the mountain and survived. There was a storm below their expedition so they were trapped and this guy turned around to one of the other climbers and told him, _I’ve figured it all out_. Something like that. And he spread his arms and dove off the mountain, and he survived it.

RHYS

He was on crack. (insistent) He was definitely on crack.

JOE

People get so delirious up there that they lose all concept of time or who’s on the mountain with them. They write down their accounts, two people from the same expedition, and they don’t remember it the same way. So maybe they do it ‘cause that feels good. The delirium.

RHYS

Forty thousand quid for the trip of your lifetime.

JOE

Basically.

JOE makes a choked off noise, caught between a laugh and a cough, and wipes his nose.

JOE (CONT’D)

They’re junkies like you and me used to be, I guess. The people who do this stuff. Looking for thrills without caring about any of the consequences. Just to say they did or just for whatever rush that comes along with it.

RHYS

Imagine releasing a press statement that you’re going to rehab for your mountaineering problem. (laughs)

JOE laughs along, a short, fake laugh.

JOE

Yeah, well, imagine being so hooked that you flash back to that time you almost died every time you’re coked up and yet you still do it. That’s exactly what those people are like.

RHYS

Addicts.

JOE

Yeah. Addiction makes people do weird stuff. You know on Mount Everest if people die above a certain altitude they can’t recover the bodies. Obviously, what’s with the insane weather and the delirium and the whole slowly-dying-to-begin-with thing, you’re not going to carry a corpse down with you, so there’s a whole bunch of bodies by the summit, a lot of them with their clothes withered away by the weather, and it’s so cold up there they're basically mummified. So there’s all those preserved bodies just lying up there, and what do those people do?

Beat. JOE turns to look at RHYS, as if to ask, _guess_.

JOE (CONT’D)

They use them as landmarks, to see how much further to go it is to the summit. They’ve got this guy called Green Boots, ‘cause they never identified his body and he’s got a pair of green boots on. And an area called Rainbow Valley 'cause it has a bunch of bodies in colourful snow suits. It's just a regular thing for them. Like saying, hey, that's Rhys Webb, he gets all the blokes he shags hooked on coke, I wanna get to know him.

RHYS makes a vague sound of agreement.

RHYS

I've a question.

JOE

Go ahead.

RHYS

What exactly is the point of this? I mean, why’re you doing this?

JOE

Why am I doing what?

RHYS

Why you’re just telling me about all of this. That I’m a horrible irresponsible person and a death mountain.

RHYS turns around to look at JOE.

RHYS (CONT’D)

What do you hope to get out of this? Do you think I’m just going to suddenly regret everything I did? That you’re this shining beacon of morality and you’ll be able to pat yourself on the ass for making me atone for my crimes?

JOE

You’re such a fucking twat.

JOE reaches out to place one hand on RHYS’ arm, as if to placate him.

JOE (CONT’D)

I’m not trying to make myself look better than you in comparison. I’m not some saint. (laughs under his breath) And I’m not looking for some sort of reaction, either. Just telling you how I feel.

JOE drops what’s left of his cigarette into the ashtray.

JOE (CONT’D)

That’s what you do when you’re in a relationship, you know?

RHYS

I know that. (beat) You know you never had to ask me if I want to go for some drinks if you think I’m such a horrible person either, right?

JOE twitches, as if on the verge of replying back.

RHYS (CONT’D)

Of course you knew that. You know why I think you still wanted to get back in touch even though I’m such an irresponsible cunt and a suicide mountain?

JOE

Rhys. (tightening his grip on RHYS’ arm) Please.

RHYS

(slightly raising his voice) Don’t _please_ me like I’m your wife you love so much who’s about to make a scene in public. You can’t tell me all those things about how I’ve ruined your life and fed you coke and then not let me talk about my side of things.

JOE

Rhys. The 393 stops just down the road. I’d like to catch the next one.

RHYS

‘cause you can dish it out but you can’t take it. Fine.

JOE

(insistent) Rhys.

RHYS

No, look. I’m not going to spend ages waxing lyrical about metaphors about mountaineering, you can catch your bloody bus. (quietly) But I think you’re addicted to me.

JOE inhales deeply, as if to retaliate, but stops short.

RHYS (CONT’D)

You’re addicted to the thrill as you’ve always been. That I’ll take you out to parties and supply you with free highs, ‘cause you’re just like the other blokes. Addicted to the thrill that you’ve got something illicit that you can hide from your parents or whatever girls you get with or your wife. And that’s why you keep coming back for me.

Beat. JOE turns his head, as if to avoid RHYS’ gaze.

JOE

You know what I said. You do weird stuff when you’re addicted.

RHYS

So you agree with me.

JOE huffs out a sigh and pulls his phone from his pocket to check the time.

JOE

Look, my bus is going to be here in two minutes. I should hurry.

RHYS

All right.

He turns around to pull JOE into a one-armed hug.

RHYS (CONT’D)

See you around?

JOE

It’s only inevitable. (slips the jacket back off) Here’s your jacket back.

RHYS

(smiles, sly and quick) Text me.

JOE turns around and begins to head for the bus stop.

 

* * *

 

“Everest is, statistically, an easy and “safe” mountain to climb.”


End file.
